Physical

We don’t see our own blood often enough. If we did, we might have a better sense of our own finiteness, or the fragility of these bodies. Maybe we’d be better at internalizing that what we put into our mouths actually becomes a part of our physicality, or we’d give thanks for the complexities within us that keep us alive. Perhaps one day, we’ll all look down toward our ankles to find blood dripping down, toward the foot. We won’t feel the cut, but we’ll bend and look closely at the pattern, seeing, with no uncertainty, what we really are.